#finnick odair imagine
promise to salivation.
pairings.finnick odair x fem!reader
about.finnick has been saving you ever since you’ve known him, but he can’t help you this time.
warnings. murder, does not follow original plot, foul language?
ricky rocks. this is kind of an L fic because it’s short, but i missed writing for bae.
“you were always the best. killing your brother like that on screen with no hesitation… indeed a performance, one of the best ever seen,” snow sat across from you, his voice calm and precise full of awe. “beautiful.”
he looked off, as if reminiscing about you on screen with blood coating your face and soaking your clothes from days on days of barbarism.
you clenched your jaw, pressing the tip of your tongue into the inside of your cheek as he spoke. your eyes meet the gravel ground of the greenhouse, thinking back to the hot nights and days that were filled with fear and no thoughts but to survive and kill.
your brother kept you safe for as long as he could, that was a mistake. you wish he would have ditched you, to fend for yourself, but he stuck by your side like a leech, ultimately leading to his death.
him or you, and he wanted it to be you.
“i always thought you were so brilliant, even at such a young age,” you were twelve, he was seventeen. you were too young, you had life left to live, therefore you did not deserve to die. “and you grew up… wonderfully.”
“stop,” you shook your head, shook the memories and red images from your mind, “stop talking.”
he did. he leaned back, watching you think. watching you struggle within your own head to come back to reality, to find yourself again. he found it amusing, watching your skin crawl from where you sat.
“he’d be so proud of you, rafe,” he smiled at the visible sudden stiffness in your body. “everything you’ve came to be.”
“don’t say say his name,” you shoved yourself up, hauling towards his seat. “you do not get to say his name.”
he shifts and you swear you see a look of uncomfortableness strike his eyes, looking you up and down, observing the anger that radiated off your skin. you wanted to kill him, you wanted him to feel pain.
“he is dead because of you. you don’t get to say his name when you don’t know what he went through, what i went through,” you were leaned over him, clenching your fists, clenching around a blade.
you wanted to kill him. you were going to kill him.
you pulled the silver knife from your sleeve, pushing it to his throat, “i want you to feel it.”
he smiled beneath the pain, his fine white teeth staining with red as blood seeped up from his throat, looking up to you, daring, not believing that you’d do it, “oh, y/n, if you couldn’t do it then, you can’t do it now.”
“watch me.”
**
he knew.
you didn’t know how but it seemed the moment you walked out of that greenhouse, his eyes were on you and he was tracking you down as you tried your best to get away from the scene, unnoticed—which didn’t work out.
“what’d he say to you?”
“does it matter?”
his body was practically shoved against yours as you tried your best to keep walking, hopefully toward an exit. but he was making it difficult, he always did, but you couldn’t blame him; you were a walking hazard when mad, especially now after the rebellion had fully absorbed panem.
everything was off and the sudden break from routine and fear of the capitol eyes watching you; it was weird and you couldn’t help but be weary of something bad happening.
“no,” he mumbled, grabbing onto your forearm to slow you and pull you away from other onlooking eyes, “but i would like to know what led to you having blood on your hand.”
you clenched your jaw hard as he now had your hand pulled up, showing the crimson colored liquid staining your hand. an aching feeling overcoming every part of your body as the look on finnick’s face begun to get to you, “don’t.”
“don’t what?” his voice was low, his eyes beginning to haunt you with a look asking you something that he wasn’t going to speak aloud; what have you done?
he couldn’t protect you from this. what you had just done, was not something to come back from. he couldn’t understand why. all you had to do was wait, just wait and the whole situation would have taken care of itself.
“he was going to die anyways,” you pulled your wrist from his grip, continuing to walk away, hoping he wouldn’t follow.
“it wasn’t your job to do it,” but of course, he strides after you. “it was planned, y/n, coin is not going to-”
“let me have this, finnick,” you turned fast to face him with anger still built up and ready to spill, “the only thing they’re going to be mad about is the fact that they didn’t get a show like they’re always fucking given. including coin.”
“she’ll have your head.”
“she’ll stay away from me. coin is just as bad as snow, and you know it.”
he stayed silent, his eyes wandering from your face as he thought. you were right. the bombing at the capitol gates single handedly showed that coin was as power hungry as snow and it didn’t matter if it costed lives.
“i can’t save you from this.”
“i don’t need you to saveme, finnick.”
lie. you both knew it.
since the day you met finnick he had been saving your ass, even if you didn’t need it.
many times from snow trying to profit off your body, many times in the eyes of aggressive capitol people and lurking faces, many times within the arena, and during the rebellion.
he kept watchful eyes on you ever since your youthful face replaced his prideful accomplishment of youngest winning victor of the hunger games.
“look, even if snow’s life ended the same, his killing was meant for a crowd,” his voice was a whisper as he pushed you slowly inside and against a wall. “it was going to be coin’s big introduction with katniss doing what she does best. you took that away, if she is anything like snow, you know that won’t go unpunished.”
“what’re you trying to say?”
“you need to leave.”
“then let go.”
he internally winced, wishing he could do more for you other than amp up your fight or flight reflexes. he didn’t want to leave you hanging, leave you to their jaws.
“finn,” you yanked at his sleeve lightly, “you need to let me go.”
his body hovered over you, seeming so out of it—drunk. his aroma was throwing you off, you just had to get away, because if you didn’t now, you probably wouldn’t anytime soon.
“promise me something then.”
you exhaled, blinking up through your lashes, “what?”
“live long enough to let me save you at least one more time?”
@transias@cc13723things@thehuntress09@demigirl-with-problems
: You and Peeta have finally found some semblance of peace after the games and the war.
: 923
: None
For the first time in weeks, rain woke you from your slumber instead of horrific, vivid nightmares of your time in the arenas. The ones from the Quarter Quell seemed to be worse than your ones from the first games, but they were insufferable either way. Peeta was asleep in his own bed but you both left your doors wide open in case either of you needed comfort during the night, so you crept down the staircase as quietly as you could. In the kitchen, you set about boiling some water for herbal tea, stopping every ten seconds to yawn. It was much earlier than you realised - just gone 5am - and through the kitchen window you saw the sun determined to rise over the Victor’s Village in District 12, pushing through the grey storm clouds with an almost enviable amount of force. Once your tea was ready, you padded through the hallway and to the front door, which you flung open, letting the fresh air and scent of rain engulf your senses. You loved storms, so you set your tea down on the doorstep and sat down with your back against the doorframe to watch.
You had no idea how long you sat there watching the rain, but when Peeta appeared above you, he startled you.
“Sorry,” He said softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay,” He was in plaid pyjamas and his warm dressing gown, rubbing the sleep from the inner corners of his eyes. You patted the space opposite you. “Join me?”
“Sure,” He smiled.
For a while the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the rain being the only sound to be heard. The last few months had been the calmest of your whole life, the months that you should have had after the seventy-fourth Hunger Games; this was how things should have been all along, before the Quarter Quell and the revolution, before everything got turned totally upside down. Or maybe they really got turned the right way up. You still hadn’t sorted through the mass of feelings you had about the events of the last few years, but the one thing you had sorted through were your feelings towards the boy with the bread. Most mornings, you woke up and cursed yourself for not figuring things out sooner, for not realising that your feelings for him were the furthest from an act that anything could possibly be. You were still trying to decide how to tell him this, even though it was clear that he already knew. The love that you two shared was an unspoken rule, your safe place - it was home. Since rescuing him from the Capitol all those months ago, this had been pretty obvious, but you still wanted to apologise for all those times you made it out to be one-sided.
“How come you’re awake so early?” Peeta asked. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, the storm woke me up,” You explained. “How come you’re awake so early?”
He shrugged. “I woke up and noticed you weren’t in your bed, so I thought I’d better check on you.”
“You know I’d have come to you if it was a nightmare,” You assured him. “I always do.”
“I know.”
The sun was well above the horizon now, shining down on District 12 and making the puddles glisten in its light. The rain had yet to cease, however, which resulted in a beautiful rainbow. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Peeta stood and took both of your hands in his, pulling you up with him. He led you out onto the front steps so you could get a better view of the rainbow; the stone was cold beneath your feet, but you didn’t care in the slightest.
“That smile looks good on you,” Peeta murmured.
You turned to face him. You always thought he looked best in the mornings when sleep still danced behind his brilliant blue eyes and he had yet to run a comb through his blonde hair. He was smiling too - grinning like a fool, actually - and your heart raced within your chest at the sight of the boy in front of you. After the Quarter Quell when he was taken from you, you vowed to never take advantage of him ever again, so every day you reminded yourself to be grateful; for his safety, for his love, for him. You looped your arms around his neck and rubbed your nose against his, forcing yourself to wait for the sweet release that would be his lips against yours. There was no reason for you to rush this moment, but Peeta apparently couldn’t wait because before long he was pressing his soft lips against yours. You could still feel his smile.
You never wanted the moment to end. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you around in a circle without breaking this kiss. When he set you down gently, you were standing on his socked feet. You’d only done this once - in the kitchen - but it had made your heart melt then, too. He started to move slowly while holding you tight, dancing for the both of you so your feet wouldn’t get cold on the steps. There were no words to describe how much love you felt for him in that moment; in every moment.
“This is our future,” He whispered into your ear. “Real or not real?”
You kissed him again. “Real.” You said against his lips. “Real, real, real.”
I think I Wanna Marry You…
One shot #55
Summary: the Quarter Quell takes a toll on everyone, but especially on lovers…
Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader (the reader is referred to as female for the purpose of sticking with the themes but it is not concretely finnick x female!reader)
Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, reader throws a vase so I guess violence
Finnick it’s about to start!” You shout from the sitting room anxiously, watching the symbol of the Capitol float on the screen, hugging a pillow to your chest tightly.
Ever since the fateful year his name was called on that stage, your stomach carried a knot the size of your head whenever you heard the Panem anthem, especially when the time came for the annual hellfest. Yours had once been called too, you were the victor of the games directly following Finnicks. the two of you had met in victors village and fallen in love, though no one really knew about it.
“Did I miss anything yet?” He asks, sitting down next to you and pulling you in towards him. You snuggle up to him, holding onto him for dear life.
“Nothing yet. The reaping hasn’t started yet.” You murmur, biting at your lip. He tugs at your chin gently, pulling it up to look at him.
“Hey. It will be ok. I promise. We’ve both been called already, we’ve both been through this. They can’t do it to us again, ok?” He assures you.
“Finnick we agreed not to lie to each other. We both know that Snow never keeps a promise. Nothing is set in stone with him.” You sigh, a stray tear rolling down your face.
“I know… I just can’t stand to see you upset.” He sighs, rubbing it away with his thumb.
You nuzzle up close as possible to him in response, watching as president Snow starts his yearly speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of The Hunger Games and it was written in the charter of The Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol.” Snow begins, addressing the nation with a voice meant to invoke a fear like no other.
“Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol.” Both you and Finnick hold each other even tighter at the thinly veiled threat, staring at the screen, unable to look away.
“On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district.” He finally announces and you let out a loud cry, burying yourself in Finnick’s arms as he stares onward, completely taken aback by the words coming out of the snakes mouth.
Your staggered sobs continue as Snow’s voice does too. “Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day-regardless of age, state of health or situation.” He says and both you and Finnick know that at least one of those things was an attack on at least two other past victors from district 4.
“No… no no no no NO!” You sob. “He can’t do this to us again! he can’t!” You murmur, throwing a vase off the coffee table and at the nearest wall.
Finnick holds you tighter, saying nothing at all, clearly in shock.
“I-I can’t do it… I can’t do it again, I can’t do it if you’re there, I can’t fight these people or kill anyone again.” You cry, your lip trembling in a mix of anger and fear.
“I know. Me neither. But we will find a way! We will get through this somehow, I know it baby.” He says into your hair, stroking it soothingly.
You knew he was hopeful for the uprising coming, you were too but there was no way it would come soon enough to save you from the arena. They were still preparing, no one was going to be ready to protect the victors and risk coming out of the shadows so soon. If they did, it would be an instant death sentence. No, you knew that at least one of you, if not both of you were fated to die in that arena this time around.
“Hey, hey, don’t go thinking about it too hard alright sweetheart? We’ll be ok, there’s still 2 other female victors from our district, you aren’t the only one.” He promises with a forced smile.
“But you are.” You whimper sadly, looking into his eyes with your glassy sad ones.
“And I will do whatever it takes to get out of there and back to you. But you have to trust me right? We both have to believe it. We will both be safe my love, no matter what, I promise.” He says soothingly, placing a delicate lasting kiss on your forehead as you nod quietly with a sigh.
“Finnick, I can’t bear the idea of going in there and killing our friends. We’ve known these people for years, they’ve lived through the absolutely traumatic games just like we have. Why is he doing this?” You ask quietly, playing with his fingers.
“Because he’s a snake. Because he’s scared and wants to gain control on the rebellion but doesn’t know how. Because he’s pure evil.” Finnick answers bitterly, staring at the Capitol symbol in spite.
The two of you lay curled up with each other quietly for a while, taking in the horror show that was just unleashed on you.
“Let’s get married. It doesn’t have to be anything public, just for us. I just want to be us, you and me forever. No games, no death, no destruction, no public stunt. Just concrete love between two people. Between us.” Finnick says suddenly, holding your hands in his own carefully.
You giggle in disbelief, glancing up to see his expression, only to find he is dead serious.
“You’re serious? Not public, not a play for the games… just us?” You say hopefully and he nods with a smile, beaming at your soft voice. “Ok, let’s do it. Let’s get married. Before the reaping, before anymore of this chaos.” You agree, giggling louder as he grins in the small victory, pulling you tightly to him and hugging you tightly from behind.
“Right now?” You ask, grinning gleefully at him as he nods, the smile on his own face growing.
“And when we both survive this, because we will, we’ll have such a fabulous party even the Capitol will be jealous. We deserve it honey.” He promises, kissing your knuckle.
You both get up, going into his room to change. You kept most of your clothes there, rarely spending time in your own house other than to check in on your family.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this. Does this make us crazy?” You ask, still smiling.
“Maybe, but there’s no shame in that.” He says and you can hear the smirk in his voice as you pull on your finest clothes. Both of you had fairly rich looking clothes, mostly meant for public appearances. Heaven forbid you ever leave a hair out of place in the eye of Panem.
Once you’re both changed, the two of you go together hand in hand to the center of the district, quickly finding someone you trusted and knew was an officiant. Weddings weren’t uncommon in the District but still, on a day such as this, every district was clouded with a certain bleakness. This made it shocking to your friend when you had told him you intended to celebrate your love for each other in the face of such imminent danger. Still, he agreed and walked with you down by the water, where the two of you were joined in marriage.
There was no other people around really and it wasn’t the warmest of days but neither of you would’ve had it any other way than being with the person you most loved in the place you both so loved, feet wading in the water as you shared your first kiss as a married couple.
—————————————–
Reaping day…
The love celebrations had ensued for a few days but as reaping day approached, your glee slowly faded into fear and anxiety. Finally it was there and you couldn’t help but be relieved it was finally going to be over with, despite knowing it was only the beginning.
Your districts name puller was much less flamboyant than some such as Effie Trinket, often opting to wear minimal makeup though it was still bright. She also chose to wear more muted, pastel colours. The one similarity was the ridiculous wig resting on her head, a vibrant shade of blue, probably to represent the water for District 4.
‘How clever’ you thought to yourself sarcastically, more bitter now than you had been when the announcement was first made.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of District 4 it is my great pleasure to choose your tributes for this years very special Hunger Games.” She announces in her own over the top Capitol accent.
“We will start with the gentlemen.” She states and really you’re more surprised than anything else.
You watch her anticlimactic pull from the bowl, watching the single slip that would ruin your life for good get plucked up and read out loud.
“Finnick Odair.” It reads, as expected but that doesn’t stop tears from streaming down your cheeks, watching sadly as he walks up to the stage, calm and masked as possible, avoiding your eyes.
You had both decided it would be best to act more stoic and not give the cameras the satisfaction of seeing you get emotional over each other. You refused to truly give into their hunger for a romance to shake things up, opting to be less entertainment skits for them and more for each other.
“And now for the ladies, how exciting!!” The chirpy woman trills and you have to disagree.
“Annie Cresta!” She announces and you turn a sympathetic glance to the redhead next to you. She has clear tears in her eyes as she starts to messily cry, making her way to the stage. You want so badly to volunteer, to stop her flow of tears and save the poor mad girl from the cruel fate awaiting her but you had promised Finnick if your name wasn’t called, you wouldn’t do anything selfless. And the two of you never broke your promises.
Still, Annie was a sweet girl, you knew this. The games had messed up her head more than they had anyone else’s. Her name even being in the draw at all hardly seemed fair but neither did anything the Capitol did.
Annie begrudgingly climbed the stairs to stand beside Finnick but then came along Mags, who was almost too selfless for her own good. She quickly volunteered for the girl, who fell into a heap of sobs of gratitude, tightly hugging the older woman with affection. Mags’ smile alone made you want to volunteer on the spot but you resisted that urge.
The woman on the stage announced the volunteer and you tuned out the rest of her speech, choosing to instead stare down Finnick with love eyes until she finished. She asked for applause but to District 4′s credit, not one citizen clapped even a little. The bright woman awkwardly moved on.
You waited until the square was starting to clear a bit to fully make your way to the visitors station to say goodbye but you gasped in surprise to see Finnick with a slightly busted lip and being dragged to the train.
“Stop! Let me go, I get a goodbye for godsake!” He shouts, trying to fight out of the Peacekeeper grip but they keep pulling, unphased by his argument. When he finally catches your shocked eyes in the crowd, he fights even harder, even more desperately.
“I LOVE YOU! I WILL WIN THIS FOR YOU Y/N!” He shouts, desperately needing you to hear. You nod franticly to prove you do and he shouts a goodbye your way, followed by another I love you as he’s thrown onto the train along with Mags and the chipper Capitol announcer.
“I love you too… Goodbye Finnick.” You whisper as the train rapidly pulls away, your eyes welling with tears as it takes away your favorite person, not knowing whether it would dare to bring him back again.
